Coming to America
By Grace Attawa
Originally found at Phoebe Farag Mikhail’s blog Being in Community (June 18, 2020)
I was born in Kenya, and my names are Grace Wairimu Njoroge. When I got married, I was so quick to drop my two names and add Attwa. You know why? While in the US the issue is race, in Kenya itis all about tribes. Anyone can tell what tribe you are from and judge you based on your last name.
Today when I introduce myself to new people in Kenya, if I don’t speak my mother tongue, they are usually left wondering where I am from. I saw what tribalism did to my family and a lot of innocent people back home and I hated it. It always got worse during election time when neighbors became enemies, and families broke and divided! When I changed my name to Attwa, I loved being incognito. I loved when I met people and related with them as Grace, a Kenyan not tied to a tribe, because tribe is an issue that continues to divide people.
I became Orthodox when I was 12 years old. What attracted me to the Coptic Orthodox Church was LOVE. I felt accepted, loved and cared for. I had no tribe or social status in the church, we had the liturgy in English and we were all united in Christ. The church was predominantly Kenyan, because those were the majority except for the few Egyptian missionaries that lived in the compound. I was a church member loved so much by Abouna (Father) Moses who is Egyptian. He did not see us as any different than him, we were all lovable and he saw us with the love of Christ. We thrived in this love. That is all what we knew even when it was tough love! We all have stories about the tough love, but the love outweighed them and when we look back, all we remember is we are where we are today because he allowed Christ to use him to LOVE us and show us how to LOVE.
During my time in the church in Kenya, I met a lot of missionaries (a lot young people and some older folks who came during summer or winter breaks to serve God in Kenya) and they taught me the meaning of love. I could not comprehend the fact that they traveled so far to come and share their love. During their visits, they were dressing like us, eating with us, singing with us, praying with us and more importantly just sharing the love of Christ with us! I imagined the churches in America to be one big loving community because the worldview I had of the Coptic Church abroad had been shaped by my interactions with these missionaries.
But today, after being in the US for four years I wonder. Where is the love? Where are the Copts who were so amazed that there was a church full of black people and they were all Coptic? Where is the love of the parents who sent them to extend the love and compassion? Where is the compassion and care for the African American communities that look like me? No one has targeted me specifically with hateful words, and I have always personally felt loved within the Coptic Orthodox community.
But sadly, I see some of them young or old, busy hating and writing a lot of hate spewing messages against fellow brothers these days. When I get upset, some tell me I should not be upset, because I am Kenyan, not African American.
Sorry, you are wrong. I am them, I am them. My kids are them. You should be them too, especially because we all come from an oppressed background as Coptic Christians and we therefore ought to be more compassionate.
My heart aches for the silence. My heart aches for the lack of empathy. Many of you would never know what it means to have a real fear for your growing son. I have to teach my son about hate when I’ve always shielded him with love… his innocent mind has to be corrupted with warnings about the difference between an African Americans, and others in this country. It pains my heart when he looks at me and doesn’t get it. He shouldn’t get it! He should only know love and acceptance. I have to warn him about police brutality and how as a young African American his mistakes will not be looked at the same as that of other Caucasians or immigrants with a color privilege.
I have been praying and hurting but more so, for the ignorance I see from many people. For my friends who do not get it. And they may never get it. I am worried about the future of our children in the church.
As I educate my son on matters of racism, I pray that every household in the Coptic community does the same with their children because I would hate for the cycle to continue. But remember the best book for the child to read is our behavior.
We need to pray for our brothers, we need to empathize and take a moment and try fit in their shoes or at least tie our shoes and walk beside them.
What is happening in America today is sad. I have never read so many hateful comments on social media by Christians. We have forgotten who we are and whom we represent.
We are Christians. When we write hateful comments on social media we are falsely representing Christ to others. When we think hateful comments in our hearts we are harboring hatred towards our own brothers and sisters.
My eyes are foggy as I strive to find that love, and light amid so much hate and darkness: a people so divided that they are not letting their heart feel, feel for a grown man groaning and crying for his mama.
Yet on these same days I also found hope in these words from the Pauline Epistle on the Feast of the Pentecost: “For as the body is one and has many members, but all the members of that one body, being many, are one body, so also is Christ. For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body–whether Jews or Greeks, whether slaves or free–and have all been made to drink into one Spirit. For in fact the body is not one member but many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I am not of the body,” is it therefore not of the body?
… But now indeed there are many members, yet one body. And the eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you”; nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” No, much rather, those members of the body which seem to be weaker are necessary. And those members of the body which we think to be less honorable, on these we bestow greater honor; and our unpresentable parts have greater modesty, but our presentable parts have no need. But God composed the body, having given greater honor to that part which lacks it, that there should be no schism in the body, but that the members should have the same care for one another. And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; or if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it” (I Corinthians 12:12-26).
I am suffering. So are you.
(c) Phoebe Farag Mikhail. Being in Community. Coming to America by Grace Attawa (June 18, 2020). Original post – https://beingincommunity.com/coming-to-america/